The Hybrid

Chapter 28

Kyra lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the night replaying in her mind. She should have been content—happy even. The evening with Ryder had been nothing short of perfect, and yet, sleep refused to come. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Dorian. Her father.

The revelation haunted her. Questions gnawed at her relentlessly. Why hadn’t he stayed to tell her more? Why was he even here? And what did he mean when he said the Elders wanted her dead? The anger she had managed to push down earlier resurfaced, hot and unrelenting. She needed answers—needed them now.

Quietly, Kyra slid out of bed and padded to the window. The pack house was still, the moonlight casting long shadows across the ground below. Without hesitation, she opened the window, letting the cool night air brush against her face. She glanced over her shoulder, ensuring no one would notice, and then leapt gracefully to the ground.

Her feet barely made a sound as she sprinted through the forest, her heightened senses guiding her. The crisp scent of pine and earth filled her nose, but she ignored everything except the path to the field. Her heart raced, both from exertion and anticipation.

When she finally reached the clearing, her chest sank. It was empty. The space that had felt so charged with energy during their meeting now seemed barren, lifeless.

Swallowing her disappointment, Kyra wandered to the pond and perched on a flat rock at its edge. The night air was cool against Kyra’s skin as she sat by the pond, her thoughts circling endlessly. Dorian’s words echoed in her mind: The Elders wanted you dead. But why wasn’t she? Why had she been spared? Did Rodrick, the supposed protector her aunt and uncle always spoke of, defy the Elders? Or was there more to the story? Every explanation felt hollow, riddled with lies she hadn’t been able to see before.

Her fists clenched as anger bubbled to the surface. Aunt Sally and Uncle Theodore had always insisted that Rodrick’s sole duty was to keep her safe, but Dorian’s revelations painted a much darker picture. Her entire life felt like a carefully crafted illusion, and now, piece by piece, it was unraveling.

She gazed into her reflection, her crimson-tinged eyes staring back at her. A lump formed in her throat as she whispered, “Why did they lie to me?” She wanted answers—needed them—but Dorian was nowhere to be found. There was a connection she couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t like what she felt with Ryder; this was different. Paternal. Deep.

The hours slipped by as Kyra wrestled with her thoughts, her hope of seeing him again dwindling.

The snap of a twig shattered her thoughts. Kyra shot to her feet, instinctively taking a defensive stance. Her eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight as Ryder emerged from the woods, his broad form stepping carefully into the clearing.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” Ryder asked, his voice low and edged with concern.

Kyra’s mind scrambled for an excuse. “I… I couldn’t sleep,” she stammered, willing her tone to stay even. “I just needed some air.”

Ryder’s expression softened slightly, but his eyes remained intense, studying her closely. “Out here? In the middle of the night?”

Ryder’s gaze softened, though his eyes were dark, filled with a mixture of worry and something else—something deeper. He moved closer, each step deliberate, until only a few inches separated them. His aura and scent was overwhelming, a commanding presence that ignited a warmth in Kyra’s chest and sent waves of electricity coursing through her body.

Without thinking, Ryder reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingertips brushing her skin. The touch sent shockwaves of pleasure down her spine, pooling heat between her legs. Kyra’s breath caught in her throat as she fought to control the fire building inside her.

Under the moonlight, his eyes seemed darker, filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite name but could definitely feel. “You’re stunning,” he whispered, his voice almost reverent.

Kyra felt her cheeks heat as her breath hitched. She forced herself to smile, trying to ease the tension. “Not bad yourself, for an old man,” she teased, her voice husky.

Ryder chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Old man, huh? I’ll remember that.”

His hand moved to her chin, tilting her face up so their eyes locked. Her knees felt weak under his intense gaze. He gently glided his thumb across her chin and up her jawline. A small moan escaped her lips unintentionally, it sent a visible shudder down Ryder spine.

He leaned in slowly, his breath mingling with hers, so close their lips almost touched. Kyra’s entire body burned with anticipation, every nerve alight with the need to close the distance.

But before their lips could meet, a piercing alarm filled the air, breaking the spell. Both of them jumped apart, startled.

Ryder’s expression instantly turned serious, his eyes darting toward the woods. “Run back to the pack house,” he ordered, his tone firm. “Go straight to your room. It’s probably just wandering rogues or a stray vampire, but I need to check it out.”

“Be careful,” Kyra pleaded, her voice shaking slightly.

Ryder gave her a reassuring nod before stepping back. His body tensed, and in a single motion, he shifted into his massive black wolf form, shredding his clothing. The transformation was fluid, his wolf every bit as commanding as his human form. With one last look back at her, he disappeared into the woods, leaving Kyra alone in the clearing.

Her heart ached with worry as she turned and sprinted toward the pack house, Ryder’s parting words echoing in her mind. She prayed he would come back safely.

Kyra sprinted back toward the pack house, her mind racing almost as fast as her legs. The alarm echoed in the distance, a constant reminder that something—or someone—was out there. She forced herself to focus, weaving through the trees with precision until the grand silhouette of the pack house came into view.

When she finally reached the doors, her chest heaved with exertion. She glanced back at the dark woods, her worry for Ryder threatening to overwhelm her. Her instincts told her to turn around, to go after him, but she knew better. Ryder had told her to stay safe, and she couldn’t defy him—especially not now.

As she stepped inside, the tension in the air was palpable. Several pack members had gathered, some in their wolf forms, others armed and on alert. Gregory was barking orders, his commanding voice cutting through the chaos.

“Lock down the perimeter!” he shouted. “I don’t want anyone getting in—or out.”

Kyra slipped past the commotion and up the stairs to her room. Once inside, she locked the door and pressed her back against it, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The fear for Ryder, the confusion over Dorian, and the lingering electricity from their moment in the clearing—it was all too much.

She paced the room, her hands trembling. What was happening out there? Who—or what—had triggered the alarm?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Kyra froze, her heart leaping to her throat. Slowly, she unlocked it and peeked through the crack to see Gregory standing there, his expression grim.

“Ryder told me to check on you,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Are you alright?”

Kyra nodded, though she wasn’t sure it was true. “What’s going on?” she asked.

Gregory hesitated, glancing down the hallway before stepping inside and closing the door. “It’s rogues,” he said. “A small group, from what we can tell, but they’re moving fast. Too fast.”

“Rogues?” Kyra repeated, her brow furrowing. “What do they want?”

“We don’t know yet.” Gregory crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “But Ryder’s out there dealing with them. He’ll handle it.”

The reassurance did little to ease her worry. “What if it’s not just rogues?” she asked quietly.

Gregory’s sharp eyes met hers. “What do you mean?”

Kyra hesitated. She couldn’t tell him about Dorian—or what she suspected he knew. “I just… have a bad feeling,” she said instead.

Gregory studied her for a moment before sighing. “Stay here. Lock the door. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

She nodded, and he left without another word.

Once the door was locked again, Kyra sank onto her bed, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress. The bad feeling she had wasn’t just about the rogues—it was something deeper. Something she couldn’t explain.

Her thoughts returned to Ryder. She could still feel the warmth of his touch, the intensity of his gaze. He had been so close to kissing her. Would he have if the alarm hadn’t gone off?

But more pressing than her feelings for Ryder was the connection she couldn’t ignore with Dorian. She had to see him again. She had to know the truth.

Her resolve hardened. As soon as things calmed down, she would go back to the field. And this time, she wouldn’t leave until she had answers.